The day was cold and harsh, but surprisingly dry. Caroline was at least thankful that she wouldn’t be running in the rain- the last time she’d tried she’d ended up with a disastrous cold which had made it hard to concentrate. For days she was visited by visions of other inhabitants of her sickbed. All in all, it wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences. In any case, it was enough to swear her off exercise in foolish conditions, which was why she was at the track today. Clothed in a simple grey hoodie zipped only halfway to her nape, a green camisole, her signature white gloves, and calf-length black sweats, she’d hit the empty track like a person denied water for too long.

She needed exercise to get things out of her system now alcohol wasn’t an option- but she’d had to avoid the pool due to its oddly popular status among the Aura students. She didn’t yet know what to think of them, these oddly segregated teenagers she’d been thrown into the midst of. Sure, Nimbus had had groups, but these kids seemed almost obsessive as far as labels went. She was so unsure of herself here; unsure if she had a label, unsure of her classes, unsure of the overbearing nature of the students… clearly adjusting wasn’t her forte.

This was why she’d chosen to go for a run at three in the morning. She didn’t want to have those people judging her, like they were just biding their time before she too would be shoved unceremoniously into her own little niche. She shuddered and took off along the well-beaten track; her feet falling first slowly and then faster and faster until her heart jittered and jumped with every move she made. She savored the torrent of adrenaline that flooded her body and the dry taste of air rushing through her lungs as she rounded the track a sixth time, the sprint having begun to take its toll on her body. Her legs began to burn at the joints and her brow was fairly sodden with sweat, but she kept going, suddenly taken by an inexplicable masochistic urge. Her breath was catching in her chest by the tenth round, and still she didn’t stop. She could vaguely feel her own body screaming for her to stop, but her mind drowned it out.

She’d lost whatever semblance of control she’d had only moments ago, and for several more minutes she dashed around the track until her body finally gave out and she crumpled, falling sideways to the ground with a distinct “thump”. For several moments she just lay there on her shoulder, her breathing broken and labored before she rolled onto her back and stared up into the still-dark sky.

She wanted to think that it was just her own senseless determination that made her sprint over two miles (a distance that no doubt more dedicated runners would scoff at), but her painful honesty made it impossible to lie to herself. She’d tried to act unaffected by the loss of nearly everyone she cared for in the fire- even at the funerals she’d been stony-faced- but underneath it all she was in pain. It took everything she had these days not to pick up the bottle again, especially since the extra strain on her mind made it harder and harder to maintain mental discipline. More and more she saw things when she hadn’t meant to- she’d even had to take to wearing her damned gloves again. She thought that once she’d abandoned them she wouldn’t have to deal with that kind of outward protection again, but she was wrong.

She was pathetic and emotional and she hated it. She’d even had to lie to people asking if she was “okay”. She’d said yes, and it was a lie. She wasn’t okay… she was weak. She didn’t want people too worry about the poor little Nimbus girl. Pity never bred good friendships. And as much as she didn’t want to be labeled, she wanted people to accept her.

But again, she couldn’t act normal at this school where everyone was filed away in their own little groups, and where all she could think about was how much she missed the people she used to know. So she stayed with the rest of the Nimbus survivors and took what comfort she could in those few familiar faces, no matter their ages or unpleasant dispositions.

Her heart seemed to have finally slowed to a steady pace, but she was still lying in the dust. With a quiet sigh she raised herself to a sitting position, her face a mask of discomfort. From the waist down she was nothing but pain. Berating herself for being an overly emotional idiot, she got to her feet. She winced at she took a step toward the stands, wobbled for a moment, and fell over again.

Bravo, Carrie.
Bravo.

Three in the morning was a good time. Devil's hour, according to that movie. Keilyn tended not to care what time it was. She was on one of her ritualistic insomniac meanderings again, that night. Insomnia was one of her favourite excuses for being fifteen minutes late to most classes. How she managed to use it as an excuse for afternoon ones was beyond her, but the teachers tended to nod and go back to what they were doing. She didn't actually have insomnia, of course. She just liked being up late, under the stars, with that uniquely night-ish air wafting all over the place.

As I said, she didn't tend to care precisely what time it was after nine pm. However, upon hearing the heavy tromp of a sprinter- every step that isn't painstakingly quiet tends to be much louder when it's dark out- she had to check her watch. For perhaps the first time in her life, she wasn't the only wierdo who stayed out all night for no immediately apparent reason.

She clambered over the fence- despite the clearly apparent door off to the left- and clambered back off into the bleachers. It was always good to have a solid view of any mental breakdown, she thought, watching the girl run at full steam. Continuously. Keilyn felt a slight tinge of anxiety after the fourth lap she'd seen- which meant, approximately, the sixth of the night. This girl wasn't just running for the hell of it. She apparently trying to kill herself through overexertion.

When the girl collapsed in front of the bleachers, Keilyn couldn't stop staring. It was one of the Nimbus students- one of the new kids on the block. Which meant that either she had had this self-destructive tendency before she came here (unlikely, Keilyn's mind decided, since she handn't come here in a wheelchair or an emergency stretcher), or had acquired it since. Not good. Not good at all.

Keilyn decided to make an attempt at an introduction. She stood and stepped her way down the bleachers as quietly as she could, and approached, keeping herself ready to react to any motions that the girl would or would not make.

Christ. Jesus Christ almighty. Beautiful. Beautiful. That was about the extent of Keilyn's thoughts after she got within 5 metres (15 feet). The girl was gorgeous, with an athlete's body and an angel's face. Even sweaty and panting, she was just about as beautiful as... well, beautiful as anything. Could be she hadn't been paying attention in class. Or, that she had the wrong classes. Or, possibly, that she hadn't been paying attention and hence was ending up in the wrong classes.

The girl moved to stand up, and Keilyn bolted, heading, on impulse, away from the bleachers and the associated exit. She got lucky- the girl was heading in precisely that direction. Then, all of a sudden, she wasn't the damage she'd done had caught up in a big way. Keilyn saw a chance, and bolted back, arriving beside her as she lay on the ground.

"Do you need an extra set of legs?" She asked, her mind automatically distorting the ancient cliche as she spoke. She leaned over slightly and offered an arm, though not what most people would call a smile. Her expression was gentle, compassionate, concerned. Not happy.

[Sorry it's rubbish-y. I'm feeling a bit off this morning. But hopefully you can find something to work with in there... ^^]

Well, this was just about the smartest thing she’d ever done. Genius, Carrie. Go for a run at three in the morning and be sure to exhaust yourself. Don’t worry, you won’t freeze to death- it’s only winter. And suddenly she felt like laughing because, inevitably, she’d fallen and she couldn’t get up. So when a strange face appeared before her she was smiling hazily, despite her bleak situation.

"Do you need an extra set of legs?"

Okay, so maybe she was a lucky idiot.

“Um, yeah, actually…” she said, feeling a little ashamed despite the kind expression on the girl’s face. She wasn’t familiar, which could mean only one thing- she wasn’t a Nimbus student. But she was here and she was offering to help when she’d expected to lay in the cold for a couple more hours. She was more than just grateful for her presence, she was ready to call her a saint and worship her. All right, so maybe not. But she was pretty damn happy to have a helping hand.

She took the offered hand and pulled herself up, surprised that the apparently lithe girl could support her weight. Clearly she, like Carrie, was more muscular than she first appeared. But of course, now she was standing, she had begun to wobble. Her legs had gone stiff with the cold, as if blood had ceased to circulate through them. She had to lean on her companion’s shoulder for lack of any other way to stand.
“Sorry,” she said instinctively, glancing at the girl’s face with an apologetic expression.

She was very conscious of how absurd this was. Herself, unable to stand, being assisted by a complete stranger at three in the morning wasn’t exactly the most normal of occurrences- on the contrary- it was undeniably odd. Not to mention that she might collapse at any moment since Carrie had no means of holding up her own weight. All she could do right now was thank her lucky stars that she was at least mentally stable at the moment.

“I’m Carrie, by the way.” She said suddenly, feeling utterly idiotic only moments afterward. Today was turning out brilliantly. Now not only did her savior think she was a masochistic nut-job, she also thought she was socially inept. But to look on the bright side of things, at least she had a positive to add to her stay here at Aura. It wasn’t all bad- at least some of the students were willing to help reckless strangers on their way to the health wing. And, hopefully, tell them exactly where said health wing was located…

Keilyn knew she could take the other girl's weight. She was stronger than she looked, and the other girl was lighter. Something about their physical closeness as they walked toward the bleachers felt... comforting. She liked being there, supportive and caring, helpful, and most importantly, close. The taller girl's feet dragged and skidded as they walked- clearly, she was going to need help of a kind that Keilyn couldn't give. It was as though Keilyn wasn't an extra set of legs- she was the only one. Keilyn wasn't sure whether this was better or worse than just being helpful. She decided that it was better.

"'ts fine." Keilyn said, in reply to the other girl's apologies. I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't, she added mentally, before she realised precisely what a stupid mistake thinking in solid sentences was. Psychics around the school went weak in the knees when a nice solid sentence drifted their way. She didn't even know who this girl was, let alone what she was capable of. Of course, letting this girl in on her thoughts wasn't necessarily a bad idea...

Carrie. Now that was a hell of a name, Keilyn thought, considering the current situation. Pun aside, the name fit. Carrie was a good strong name. "I'm Keilyn." she replied, grinning at the girl's gentle blush. Things were going well- better than they tended to, anyway.

They reached the bleachers, and Keilyn turned the two of them around and sat, careful not to do any more harm to Carrie. "Sorry," she said, panting slightly from the girl's weight- she might be light, but she was definitely a human being, and thus difficult to carry for more than a couple dozen metres. "Had to sit down, you know. Tired." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Eventually, she gave the girl an inquisitive look and inquired: "So what makes a person, hypothetically, want to kill themselves like that?" She was genuinely interested, for two main reasons- first, to avoid it herself, but more importantly, if she was lucky, she might be able to fix it within Carrie.

She was thankful to be sitting. Walking was literally impossible, as her legs seemed to be too stubborn to move or even twitch for her. Well, she supposed hospitals weren’t all that bad. Or whatever this school had for nurses or whatever. Some people could heal, right? That’d be nice right about now…
She coughed throatily before responding, smiling despite the pain searing her body.
“Hey, I know the feeling…” she said jokingly. Well, that at least was a good sign.

The next part, however, was not.

"So what makes a person, hypothetically, want to kill themselves like that?”

Her smile vanished.
“Kill myself?” she breathed, her voice escaping no louder than a whisper.
She turned to look at Keilyn, aghast, her lips hanging faintly open. She was a little offended at first, to think that someone might consider her suicidal. She was always such an upbeat person… she liked to help others, mother them, even… so why would she try to run herself to death?

It took her a few seconds to recover, and her expression to darken. She looked down at her feet, still struggling to keep her posture upright for fear that her lungs might stab with pain again.
“I wasn’t… trying to kill myself.” She said gently, “I don’t know what I was doing, to be honest.”

She blinked, feeling her eyes burn suddenly. Tears threatening to overflow their boundaries abruptly blurred her vision. They were a long time coming, these tears, but she wouldn’t let them fall. She tipped her head backwards, blinking rapidly to clear her vision. Now was not the time. No, no time was. She wasn’t going to let this affect her; she wouldn’t let the emotions in. They were superfluous and painful, and she had no use for them.

Others might let them rule their lives, but Carrie had more pressing issues to deal with. Number one: how to walk. Number two: how to breathe.

The pain in her lungs (or her chest, she wasn’t sure), though it had begun as nothing but an uncomfortable prickling, was progressively rising in intensity so that now it had begun to burn with every passing breath.
“Um, no chance you’re a healing-type person, is there?” she said, surprised at the faintness of her voice, “Because just about everything hurts like a bitch.”

If she had any luck in the world at all this girl would assume the tears had been due to the pain.
She was in for some good karma anyway…

Crap. Keilyn bit her lip as the girl whispered her reply. She'd hit a nerve, and a big one from the looks of things. She was used to making a major faux pas every couple of days, and usually with people she'd just met, but something was different here- something was different about this girl. Keilyn cared about offending Carrie, which was more than she could usually say about anyone.

Her thumb found its way to her teeth easily and she started to gnaw. She hadn't had anyone that would admit to being close to her in... Christ, it had been years. Finally she found someone who wasn't offended at the sight of her and she was messing it up. She swore under her breath and clenched her free fist, then looked back at the other girl. Carrie replied, saying she didn't understand it herself... Keilyn could understand that better than she could understand anything.

Impulsiveness had always been part of Keilyn's game, part of her makeup and part of her self. Acting without realising why was what she did, as a rule. This was why she was always late; this was why she was always slightly sleepy; this was why she was prone to messing up in major ways all over the place. Of course, it was also the reason she had met Carrie in the first place; she glanced again and saw that the older girl was crying.

She hadn't been crying when she was lying down; she hadn't been crying when she was being carried (which would have been hell, Keilyn realised. She wasn't great at carrying people). These tears weren't due to any simple pain, and Keilyn's original suspicions were confirmed. This girl was messed up in a big way that couldn't be easily fixed. Emotionally, that is.

Carrie stopped crying, gradually, and glanced at her. Healing powers, she asked. Keilyn could still see the tears in the edges of her eyes, and behind that, there was something that was begging to be released. Something big. It was in the shuddering breath, her voice... and just a hunch, really. She decided to act on impulse.

Keilyn threw her arms around Carrie's shoulders in a small-scale equivalent of a bear hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "really I am. I'm so sorry." She didn't even know what she was apologising for- probably the sudden invasion of space- but it sounded right. It sounded good. It sounded like what she would need to say.